


The Days That Followed

by dramatis_personae



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Romance, Shirtless Zuko, Slow Burn, Zutara
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:55:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25465834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dramatis_personae/pseuds/dramatis_personae
Summary: In the days between the final Agni Kai and the Coronation, Katara and Zuko firm their friendship and learn how much they truly need each other.Canon compliant, but sets up for eventual canon divergence
Relationships: Katara & Zuko (Avatar), Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 105





	1. The First Day

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> This fic was originally intended as a prologue for a post-war Zutara week fic, but got out of hand rather too quickly! It is set in the days following the Agni Kai with Azula, and follows the already beautifully established friendship that Katara and Zuko share. It draws more on the sparks that were clearly there throughout their relationship, and sets the scene for a post-war canon divergence. 
> 
> More notes at end of chapter!

#### The Day of Sozin’s Comet

The first time he fell, she caught him. They had walked slowly and painfully towards the heart of the Palace, leaving the echo of Azula’s heart-wrenching screams behind them. 

“Are you sure they’ll be alright?” Zuko asked. His breath was coming in ragged gasps, and one hand hovered over the star-shaped wound across his chest. Katara pursed her lips at the sight of it and tightened her grasp around his waist. “Katara? Do you think they’ll be alright?”

“What?” she asked distractedly. He frowned and inclined his head back the direction they had come. “Oh, the guards?” Katara considered the Fire Nation soldiers they had left guarding Azula as she writhed and cried and screamed blue fire. She remembered the warm, heavy weight of the chains in her hands, and how they’d bitten into her flesh as she tightened them around the Princess’s wrists. She set her mouth in a grim line and looked frankly up at Zuko. “Yes. Trust me, Azula’s not going anywhere.”

He had nodded in relief, and then promptly collapsed against her. 

“Zuko!” 

She strained to hold him upright, her knees buckling under the weight of him. She could feel his heart beating against her palm. Fast. Too fast. 

“Zuko!” 

Her own heart was beating rapidly now and she dug her fingers into his waist and chest. Panic began to rise up in her throat. 

“Come on, Zuko. Walk!”

They staggered forward a few more steps. He was getting heavier. His head fell, and the panic began beating a fast tattoo against her ribs. 

“Katara,” he whispered, then fell. 

The second time he fell, she didn’t catch him. 

When it became clear she couldn’t move him herself, she ran through the Palace’s labyrinth of corridors, cursing herself for letting him move in the first place. 

“But we need to send messengerhawks immediately, Katara,” she sniped to herself as she ran. “It couldn’t possibly wait, never mind that I’ve just been struck by _lightning._ ”

She found a huddle of servants and fire sages in an alcove, a couple of corridors away from where she had left Zuko.

“I need help,” she barked at them, tearing back the curtain that hid them. “Your Fire Lord is injured. He needs to be taken to his chambers, right now!” They all stared blankly, several of them shrinking away from her. She exploded. “Did you hear me? Fire Lord Zuko is hurt!”

Their faces, which had visibly paled when she had discovered their hiding place, relaxed at hearing Zuko’s name. An older woman with silky black hair pulled back from her face in a severe, austere Fire Nation hairstyle, pushed forward.

“Where is he?” 

Katara sagged with relief. “This way,” she said, already turning back. 

The woman put an arresting hand on her shoulder and turned to speak to the other servants. 

“Riku, Kaito, follow Lady…” here the woman raised an eyebrow at Katara, who gave her name impatiently. “Follow Lady Katara and take Fire Lord Zuko to… take him to his usual apartments. You, and you,” she pointed at two of the sages. “Go get the Palace healers at once, and send them to Crown Prince’s quarters.”

“No.” Katara said suddenly, shaking her head. “I’ll heal him. No one else.”

The woman raised an eyebrow but nodded sharply. “Very well. What do you need?”

“Water. Lots of water.”

***

Katara knelt beside Zuko on the bed, hands frantically and feverishly working on the scar that spread red and raw across his chest. His heart had slowed to a worryingly sluggish rate, and Katara could feel sweat beading on her brow as she worked.

The servants had led her to what she could only assume was Zuko’s old bedroom. She sent a private prayer of thanks to Yue for the foresight of Ukari, the servant woman, who had directed them here and not to the Firelord’s official chambers. She thought it would have been decidedly harder to do this on Ozai’s bed. 

At Katara’s bidding, Ukari had sent the servants scurrying throughout the Palace. Two steaming vats of water were brought to Zuko’s chambers, rolls of bandages and salve were piled up at his bedside, and a sleeping draught was drawn up for when – Katara refused to think if – Zuko needed it. 

“Will there be anything else, Lady Katara?” Ukari had ushered all the servants out of the room as Katara worked over their Firelord and now stood at his bedside with her head bowed. 

“No…” Katara said distractedly, all her concentration on Zuko’s heartbeat. “No there’s noth- wait! Yes! There is something. We need to send messengerhawks to General Iroh and then to all Fire Nation commanders in the field. They need to carry the message that Azula has been defeated and that Zuko has taken command as Firelord. All Fire Nation forces are to stand down. Immediately.” 

Katara looked up at Ukari. The woman had not moved. Katara felt a spark of irritation shoot through her. “Bring me the message before it is sent. I’ll try and have him awake by then,” she gestured to Zuko with glowing hands. “He can sign off, if you like. Or you could always ask Azula.” 

Ukari blinked once, and bowed deeply. “Of course, Lady Katara. The messages will be sent at once. There is no need to disturb the Fire Lord.”

Katara nodded. “Very well. Thank you, Ukari.” 

The servant woman left and Katara turned her full attention back to Zuko. “Come on,” she muttered. “Come on. You are not going to leave me like this.”

The room glowed blue.

***

She’d been working on him for hours. Her palms and fingers were wrinkled, and her arms ached with the healing. And he still hadn’t woken up.

Katara sighed and siphoned off the last off her healing water into the waste vat. Although Zuko’s wound was less severe than Aang’s lightning wound had been, it was proving much, much harder to heal. She would have given anything for even a thimbleful of Spirit Oasis water. 

In the end, after several frustrated attempts at knitting Zuko’s body back together with handfuls of sulphurous, bog-standard Fire Nation water, she had pulled the call bell that hung next to the bed. 

Almost immediately, Ukari had materialised at Zuko’s bedside. “Lady Katara?”

“This isn’t enough,” Katara had said flatly, gesturing the colossal vats that the servants had provided. “I need more. I need…” she had gnawed at her lip. “I need a bath.”

Ukari had nodded smoothly, unflappable as ever. “Certainly, Lady Katara. I will have Fire Lord Zuko’s bathtub filled immediately. Is there anything else?

Katara had pointed to Zuko. “I’ll need help carrying him.”

It had been easier after that. In the absence of Spirit Oasis water, it had been a stroke of genius – even if Katara did say so herself – to use the bathtub. The servants had quailed when she’d pushed their Fire Lord below the surface of the opulent, slate-tiled tub, but she’d barely given them a second glance before submersing herself along with him. Her hair had floated fine and cloud-like around them. Once she was satisfied, she bent away the air bubbles from their mouths and surfaced. 

The servants who had lifted a still-unconscious Zuko from the tub had the good grace to look only mildly scandalised when she emerged dripping, dressed in nothing but her wraps. 

“Put him back in the bed. I can finish this there,” she had told them matter-of-factly, bending herself dry and reaching for her filthy tunic. 

The servants had melted away as she began her final ministrations, but Katara knew that they were hidden nearby. She stretched, looked at Zuko once last time, and pulled the call bell. 

Ukari was there. “Lady Katara?”

Katara stepped off the bed. “Will you please watch the Fire Lord? There are some things that I need to take care of.”

Concern creased the servant woman’s face. “Lady Katara,” she began, “You need to rest. I can have a bath drawn up for you – “ 

Katara cut her off, wrapping her hands around the older woman’s hard, callused ones. 

“Not just yet. I will rest – I promise!” she said, as Ukari opened her mouth to protest. “But there are more pressing matters that need my attention. Zuko would never forgive me if I didn’t do this.” 

Ukari pressed her lips together, then nodded. “What is it that you require, Lady Katara?”

Katara smiled tiredly. “I need to see the former Crown Princess.”

***

Katara pushed open the door between Zuko’s washroom and bedchamber, freshly bathed and attired, but utterly, completely exhausted.

True to her word, Ukari had ensured that a steaming, fragrant bath was drawn up for Katara as soon as she had finished with Azula. Ukari has also discreetly removed Katara’s soiled clothing while she bathed and replaced it with simple Fire Nation garb, almost identical to the outfit she had stolen at the start of summer. 

If you had told that Katara, who sighed as she put away her mother’s necklace and who hovered anxiously over Aang’s scar, that she would be up to her elbows in healing Zuko, who had just jumped in front of a lightning bolt for her, she would have told you to lay off the cactus juice. 

It was odd how time could pass so quickly. Even odder how it could yet seem so, interminably, long. 

Katara crossed the room silently. Ukari was sitting, still and silent, by Zuko’s side. Katara placed a hand on her shoulder. 

“Thank you,” she said quietly. “You have been… you have been wonderful.”

Ukari said nothing, her gaze fixed firmly on Zuko as he slept. 

Katara’s climbed wearily onto the bed, bending up a handful of water from the freshly replenished vat and kneeling by Zuko’s side. She gently pulled aside his tunic and swallowed the sharp, spiky lump that rose in her throat at the sight of the angry, puckered skin on his chest. 

“He was a beautiful boy, you know.”

Katara looked up. Ukari’s eyes were shining.

“So beautiful. And so kind.” Ukari’s voice cracked. She was still looking at Zuko. “His father did an awful thing to him. He was just a boy!”

Katara could feel her heart slamming against her chest. Ukari’s eyes were trained on Zuko’s face. On that comet-shaped scar. Surely… surely not…

“Even then he had a heart better than his father. And he was punished for it. Crying for his father’s forgiveness…” Ukari broke off. “I am sorry, Lady Katara.”

“No,” Katara breathed. “No, don't be.”

Ukari visibly gathered herself and stood. “Shall I have chambers prepared for you, Lady Katara?”

‘No. Thank you. I need to stay with him.”

Ukari inclined her head and began to back out of the room. As she reached the doorway, she paused and turned to look back at the waterbender and the Fire Lord. In the dim light of the healing water, she could see Katara’s dark, shining head as it bowed over Zuko’s chest, and the glint of the tears that fell there.

***

“Katara.”

His voice rasped in the darkness, jolting her out of her half-slumber. Uncurling herself uncomfortably from her position on the futon at the foot of Zuko’s bed, she crawled to where he was propped up against the pillows. His eyes were open and he held a small flame in his palm, throwing deep shadows against the planes of his face. 

“Zuko. Are you okay?”

He nodded. “I think so. Just thirsty.”

Immediately, Katara bent up a shining stream of water and coaxed it gently into his mouth, only stopping when he squeezed her knee with his free hand. 

“Thank you, Katara.”

“You really need to stop saying that.”

He frowned. “Why? It’s just water. 

“You know what I mean.”

Zuko sighed. “You saved my life.”

“After you saved mine!” she said in a furious whisper. His hand was heavy and hot on her knee. “You jumped in front of a lightning bolt, Zuko! You could have been killed!”

“But I wasn’t,” he said calmly. “Because you saved my life. So, I am saying thank you. Again.”

Katara opened her mouth and then closed it. Her throat was burning with unshed tears and she bit the inside of her cheeks to stop them from falling. Zuko took his hand off her knee and propped himself up on his elbow.

“What happened?” His voice was still thick with fatigue. “How did we end up here? Were the messengerhawks sent? Where is Azula?”

Katara sighed and settled back against the pillows and cushions, her shoulder flush with Zuko’s. 

“You passed out. I found some servants. They brought you here. I healed you. The messengerhawks were sent hours ago, we should have a reply from your uncle soon.” Her voice was flat and matter-of-fact. He watched her face closely, eyes wide. “Azula is in prison. I saw to it myself.”

He said nothing, golden eyes searching her face. She reached across him and tugged on the bedside call bell firmly. “I’ll tell you everything,” she promised, as the door to Zuko’s chambers slid open, “but first, you have to eat.”

***

Once the bowls of broth and noodles had been cleared away, Katara began to talk. She told Zuko of the messengerhawks that had been sent across all corners of the world, and the scrolls they had borne. She told him that there had been no replies from their friends and family, but that she thought that this was one of those rare circumstances where no news really was good news. If the Fire Nation had managed to launch their planned attack, they surely would have heard by now.

Finally, Katara took a deep breath. She surveyed Zuko’s face carefully, and he looked evenly back at her. “Azula. I… after I finished,” she gestured at the bandages across Zuko’s chest. “I went back to the courtyard.”

On the walk back through the Palace, led by an Imperial Guardsmen, Katara had tried in vain to push down her rising terror. She’d managed to push aside the memory of Azula screaming and spewing blue fire while she’d been busy healing Zuko, but now fear shuddered through her and dread dragged heavily at her footsteps.

The sun had just been setting as Katara stepped back into the courtyard. Golden, rosy light painted the ruined rubble, and long, bluish shadows crept across the ground. It gave the place an abandoned, derelict feel, and Katara had felt a jolt of unease shoot through her. 

It was completely silent. 

Katara had followed the Guardsmen across the courtyard to where they’d left Azula only a few hours before. The Princess was kneeling, her head bowed. Two dark, impassive shapes flanked her. As Katara approached, one of the dark shapes stepped forward to meet her. 

“Master Katara,” he said. “My name is Shinsuke, Captain of the Imperial Guard. We have been keeping watch over the Princess until the Fire Lord gives us orders as to what is to be done with her.” 

Katara had tried to inject a note of haughty self-confidence into her voice. “How is she?” 

Shinsuke had shifted uncomfortably. “The Princess has been… troubled. She is quiet for lengths of time, as you can see now. But then she is…” the Captain trailed off. Katara didn’t have to use her imagination to know what Azula was likely doing when she wasn’t quiet. “We have restrained her. She refuses food and drink. There is little more we can do until we receive further orders from the Fire Lord.” 

Katara had shot a glance at Azula. The Guardsmen had bound her tightly in some sort of full body wrap. It covered her tightly from neck to knee, completely immobilising her. Then, as though she felt Katara’s eyes on her, Azula had started and looked up. Katara had quickly turned back to Shinsuke.

“The Fire Lord has been injured. He is… he is still resting. She will need to be taken somewhere secure until he awakens. After that - ”

At these words, a deep, throaty chuckle had cut the air and Katara felt a cold jolt of fear slide through her.

“Fire Lord Zu-Zu,” Azula drawled in her clipped, cold voice. “It really is too funny. Or it would be if it wasn’t just so pathetically sad.”

Katara had been sure that everyone in the courtyard could hear her heart slamming against her ribcage. Ignoring Azula, who had started grinning at her through a jagged fringe of hair, Katara had continued talking to Shinsuke.

“After that, the Fire Lord will decide what is to be done. Until then - ”

“Fire Lord for five minutes and he already sends his girlfriend to do his dirty work.” Azula’s voice had taken on a leering, lyrical tone. “Then again, he did jump in front of a _lightning bolt_ for you, so you really must be something special. Special for a peasant, that is.”

The Guardsmen around her had started. Katara cursed Azula. She had very much hoped that this particular chapter of Fire Nation history would leave her out entirely. She didn’t exactly wish to be remembered as the girl who nearly got Fire Lord Zuko killed before the crown was even on his head.

“Until then, we will have her taken to the prison tower, Master Katara,” Shinsuke had supplied helpfully. “Please inform the Fire Lord when he awakens.”

Katara had nodded gratefully. “Thank you Captain Shinsuke. I appreciate everything you and your men have done today.” 

The Captain had smiled at her, and she suddenly felt very, very tired. 

As Katara had turned to leave, Azula began to laugh. Seized by a sudden fury, Katara had whirled around and strode across the courtyard to where the Princess knelt. 

“You know nothing about Zuko!” she had snarled, crouched inches from Azula’s face. “He will be the best Fire Lord this nation has ever seen! You think that because he cares about other people, he’s weak? Don’t forget, Azula, I have fought you both, and Zuko is a thousand times stronger that you could ever be!”

Katara had left then, rage still coursing through her. As she was about to step back into the labyrinth of passageways that led back to Zuko’s room, she heard Azula’s voice carry low and clear across the courtyard. 

“Yes. Very special, indeed.”

***

While Katara had recounted the day’s events, Zuko had pulled closed the curtains that hung around his bed. They were still sitting shoulder-to-shoulder, so Katara could only see his face in profile as she spoke.

Zuko followed her story carefully and in silence, nodding at various intervals. He had turned to look at her when she told him of his sister’s spiteful words, golden eyes flashing darkly, but still he said nothing. When she finished, a long silence stretched between them. Katara waited as he processed her words, hands resting lightly in her lap. 

“You shouldn’t have goaded her like that,” he said finally, thoughtfully. 

Katara exhaled. “I know, but I just couldn’t help myself. She – “

“But I’m glad you did,” he interrupted, grinning at her.

Katara smirked. “Well, in that case, you’re very welcome. Any time you need someone to shout at Azula, just let me know.”

“I don’t know what to do about her.” Zuko said after another lengthy pause.

“You will.” Katara reached over and covered his hand with hers. He flipped his palm over and intertwined their fingers. “You don’t have to decide now.”

“She’s my sister.”

“I know.”

Almost absently, Zuko touched the bandages around his chest. Katara felt her heart clench. 

“Does it hurt? Do you need me to work on it some more?”

Zuko shook his head. “No, it doesn’t hurt. Besides,” he added, smiling. “I think you’ve done more than enough today.”

Katara bit her lip and pulled back her hand from Zuko’s grasp. “Zuko, there’s something I have to tell you.”

His eyes widened slightly as he turned to face her. Katara kneaded her hands together anxiously.

“Your… your wound,” she stammered. “I worked on it for hours, but I didn’t have any Spirit Oasis water, and it wasn’t as bad as Aang’s because you redirected it - the lightning, I mean - but...”

Zuko reached out and stilled her frantically twisting hands. “Katara. Breathe. It’s okay, you can tell me.”

Katara inhaled deeply. “I did the best I could, but I think… I think you’ll always have a scar.”

Zuko blinked once and then began to laugh. Katara stared at him, mouth open.

“I don’t see what’s quite so funny!” she said crossly. “I just told you that you’re going to have a scar for the rest of your life!”

Zuko laughed even harder at that. “Katara,” he gasped. “You can’t be serious.”

Katara huffed. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Zuko stopped laughing, though mirth still creased his face. 

“Katara,” he said seriously, “I don’t care about the stupid scar.”

“Are you sure?” Katara asked doubtfully.

Zuko grabbed her hand and brought it up to the left side of his face. “You want to know the difference between this scar,” he moved her hand to his chest, “and _this_ one? The scar my… the scar on my face was intended to shame me, to cast me out. I didn’t have a choice in the matter.”

“But this scar,” he pressed her hand firmly against his chest, “is something I can be proud of. It means that I’m part of something. That I’m an ally and a… and a friend. Jumping in front of that lightning bolt was the easiest thing I’ve ever done. The best thing I’ve ever done.”

Katara exhaled shakily and managed a watery smile. “I still wish I could have healed it, though.”

Zuko smiled. “I know.”

Katara let her hand fall back into her lap. “It must be getting late,” she yawned.

“Hmm,” Zuko mused. “It’s only just after midnight.”

“How can you tell?”

Zuko pointed at himself. “Firebender, remember?”

“Ah yes, how could I forget.” Katara said wickedly, “You – ah, what was it? Oh yes, you _rise with the sun_.”

Zuko groaned. “Please never repeat anything I said back then.”

“Oh I can’t promise that.” Katara said. “You had such a flair for the dramatic. They were some of your best lines!”

Zuko slumped back against the pillows. “I feel very tired all of a sudden.”

Katara grinned. “Don’t worry, we’ve got years to unpack your ponytail era.”

“My _ponytail era_?”

Katara snickered to herself as she began clambering back across the bed towards the futon. 

“Hey, where are you going?”

“To sleep. I’m exhausted too.”

“Yeah, but _where_ are you going to sleep?”

Katara paused and looked back at him. “There,” she said, pointing to the futon. “I want to be able to keep an eye on you.” She’d only told Ukari half the story in refusing her offer to have a room made up for her. Besides the fierce protectiveness she felt towards Zuko, Katara was also afraid that they would put her in Azula’s old room. 

“You can’t sleep there,” he said, scandalised. “It’s a futon.”

“I’ve slept on worse,” Katara snorted, “and so have you.”

“Just sleep here,” he said, gesturing to the wide expanse of bed. 

“Oh. Are you… are you sure? I don't want to, ah, bother you or anything.”

Zuko rolled his eyes. “This bed is bigger than Appa’s saddle, and Agni knows the six of us slept there often enough.” He sighed, seeing her hesitation. “You won’t bother me. If I wanted to speak to you on the other side of this bed I’d need to send you a messengerhawk.”

Katara laughed. “Okay,” she said, scrambling back up the bed and settling herself in beneath the covers. “That futon was pretty uncomfortable.”

“I bet.”

A warm, sleepy silence filled the room. Katara felt her breathing slow, matching Zuko’s as he lay across from her. 

“Katara?”

“Mmm?” 

“Thank you for everything today. All of it.”

“S’alright.”

“You’d make a great Fire Lord.”

“S’true.”

“And it was a phoenix tail, not a ponytail.”


	2. The Second Day: Part 1

**The Day After Sozin’s Comet**

Pale sunlight was edging into the bedchamber when Katara awoke the next morning. Whether the result of months spent sleeping in cramped quarters, or just the consequence of total and complete exhaustion, she found herself in the same position she’d fallen asleep in; curled on her side with one hand pillowed beneath her cheek, and the other stretched across the expanse of bed towards Zuko. 

Who was, in fact, not in the bed. 

He was making his way across the room, stepping with almost exaggerated caution towards the washroom door.

“What’re you doing?”

Zuko blanched and turned around. Katara surveyed him with sleepy, suspicious eyes. 

He pointed at the heavy wooden door. “Bathroom?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Hmm… alright. But be careful. And no baths without me there.”

Zuko blinked at her words but nodded obediently as he slouched into the bathroom. Katara rolled onto her back and peered blearily at the thin sunlight fighting its way through heavily curtained windows. It was still early. Far too early. 

From behind the washroom door, Katara was dimly aware of splashing, running water. _He really better not be having a bath without me_ , she thought fiercely before dropping back into a fitful doze. 

The next time she woke, the room was slightly brighter. It was also much, much warmer. Someone had lit the scones that lined the walls of the room and she could hear the measured breathing that accompanied Zuko’s now-familiar morning ritual. 

He was sitting with his back to her, cross-legged on the much-maligned futon. With each of his deep exhales, the wall sconces flared. Katara propped herself up on one elbow.

“Morning,” she said none-too-brightly.

Zuko’s breathing slowed and the fires ceased their rhythmic dance. “Good morning,” he replied, turning to face her. “Did you sleep okay?”

Katara nodded and kneaded the sleep from her eyes. “I think that was the best sleep I’ve had in… well, a long time.”

Zuko smiled. “It helps when you’re sleeping in a feather bed instead of a sleeping bag.”

“Or Appa’s saddle,” Katara said, wrinkling her nose. “You were right though, this is the biggest bed I’ve ever seen. Much bigger than Appa’s sad –" 

She broke off and bolted upright. Zuko’s eyes widened in alarm. 

“Oh Zuko,” Katara threw him a stricken glance. “Appa!”

With one look at Katara’s agonised face, Zuko sprung off the futon and pulled the call bell, nearly wrenching it from the ceiling. 

Ukari floated serenely into the room.

“My Lord,” she said smoothly, and with only the faintest hint of surprise. The emotion she had displayed to Katara the evening prior was gone, replaced with professional detachment. “I am very pleased to see you are awake. How can I be of assistance?”

“The Avatar’s air bison. Has anyone seen it?”

“Yes, my Lord. The, ah, _air bison_ is in the komodo rhino stable. I can assure you that it has been well cared for. After the stablemaster got over his initial…” she paused, her expression speaking volumes on her opinion of the stablemaster, “… his initial qualms.”

Zuko placed a hand on Katara’s shoulder and squeezed gently. “He’s okay. It’s okay. We can go visit Appa later.”

“Thank Yue and all the spirits,” she said in relief, and sank back against the pillows. Zuko dismissed the servant woman gratefully, and Ukari’s eyes flickered briefly between Katara and Zuko as she bowed and left the room. 

“I can’t believe you forgot about a ten-tonne air bison!” Zuko exclaimed as the door swung shut.

The amusement in his voice was lost on Katara, who groaned and buried her head in her hands. “I know! Aang would have killed me if anything happened to Appa!”

Zuko made a disapproving sound in the back of his throat. “I don’t think Aang’s in much of a position to be holding grudges against anyone right now. Anyway, I was joking! Appa’s fine, Katara.”

Katara groaned again. Zuko knelt beside the bed and pulled her hands from her face. 

“Appa is fine, Katara,” he repeated. “I promise we can go visit him after I finish my… Fire Lord stuff.”

Valiantly ignoring the gnawing sense of guilt in her gut, Katara smiled. “Fire Lord stuff? And what exactly might that be?”

Zuko opened his mouth, paused, then closed it. He scratched the back of his head. “I honestly have no idea.”

Katara laughed. “Alright, Fire Lord stuff first, Appa later.”

Zuko stood and immediately winced, his hand clutching at his chest. 

“Scratch that. Healing first, Fire Lord stuff later.” Katara threw back the coverlet and planted her bare feet firmly on the cool, polished floor. 

“It’s okay, Katara. It was just a twinge.”

Katara shook her head stubbornly and grabbed Zuko’s wrist. “Absolutely not. It’s time we had that bath.”

Zuko made a choked sound which Katara ignored as she pulled him doggedly towards the washroom.

***

“Okay,” she said as hot water was thundering into the tub. “Take off your shirt.”

“What?!”

“Take. Off. Your. Shirt.” She repeated slowly. “I’m not going to be able to take off your bandages if you’re still wearing a shirt.”

“Oh.”

Zuko pulled his shirt over his head and discarded it on the floor, kicking it aside. Katara matter-of-factly set to work, encircling Zuko with her arms as she deftly unwound the bandages. She could smell him from this close; he was a mixture of cloves and sandalwood and warm skin.

“Done!” she said eventually, stepping back. Zuko’s torso was bare, bar the starburst wound. She looked up at him and frowned. “You’re very flushed! The pain’s not that bad, is it?”

Katara reached up a hand to rest on his forehead and he jerked back. “It’s fine! Let’s just do this.”

Katara huffed disapprovingly, but relented. She pointed to the bath. 

“Get in.”

As Zuko waded into the tub, Katara shrugged out of her clothes. She breathed deeply, centring herself. Yesterday’s healing session had been long and arduous, and she could only hope it would be made easier by having a willing – or at least conscious – patient.

“Can we hurry up?” Zuko’s voice was sharp, impatient. “I feel… stupid.”

Katara stepped into the tub while Zuko watched warily. His arms were crossed protectively over his chest, and he looked so much like a little boy refusing his bath time that Katara almost laughed.

“Float on your back,” she said.

Zuko obliged and Katara bit her lower lip.

“It might be easier if you close your eyes.”

With one last, wary glance at her standing over him, his slid his eyes shut. Katara gloved her hands with water and they began to glow. 

As she guided her hands across his chest and abdomen, Katara began to revise her previous assumption that a conscious Zuko was a more willing Zuko. She could feel the lines of tension throughout his body, and he winced every time she passed directly over his wound. Katara ground her teeth. It was going to be another long day if he didn’t relax and let the water do its work. 

“Hey Zuko, want to play a game?” 

“Not particularly.” He hesitated, then cracked one eye open. “What kind of game?”

“A great one!” she said brightly. “We used to play it at the South Pole during the winter. It’s a good way to… to pass the time.” _And distract unwilling patients_ , she added privately. “It’s called Truth and a Tale. We have to take it in turns to make two statements: one Truth and one Tale. The other one has to guess which is the tale, and which is true! ”

Zuko visibly paled. “You already know enough about me.”

“That’s not true! I’ve known you for less than a year. There must be loads of things I don’t know about you.” She noted his disbelieving expression and continued earnestly. “Things like - I don’t know, - what your favourite colour is, what pets you had as a kid, who was your first kiss…”

Zuko exhaled and steam rose off the bathwater. “Alright, alright! I’ll play! But you have to go first.”

“Hmm okay…” Katara mused thoughtfully as she guided her healing water across Zuko’s torso. “Okay, I’ve got one,” she grinned and cleared her throat. “I am a long-lost princess, and I was born on top of a glacier.” 

“Uh, you weren’t born on a glacier?”

“No!” Katara exclaimed. “Of course I was born on a glacier! You’ve seen my home!”

“But you _are_ a princess! You’re the Princess of the Southern Water Tribe.”

“There’s no such thing.”

“Wasn’t Sokka’s moon-girlfriend the Princess of the Northern Water Tribe?”

“Well, yes.”

“And wasn’t her father Chief of the Northern Water Tribe?”

“Yes, but – “

“And isn’t your father Chief of the Southern Water Tribe?”

“Well… yes. But it’s not – “

“Then you are Princess of the Southern Water Tribe.”

“We haven’t had a Princess in… I don’t know… one hundred years!”

“So what? There hasn't been a Fire Lord who wasn’t completely insane in the last hundred years either. Things change, Princess.”

Katara scowled at the self-satisfaction evident in Zuko’s tone, but softened slightly as saw a faint smile crease his face. She felt him relax, just the tiniest bit, beneath her hands. “Alright. I’m not convinced, but it’s your turn. Truth or Tale, Fire Lord.”

Even though his eyes were closed again, Katara could have sworn that he rolled them in exasperation.

“Uh… umm, I don’t know. This is stupid!”

“It doesn’t have to be anything big! Just say the first things that come into your head.”

“Uh, well then, I’m glad I picked a healing waterbender to help me fight Azula and… I absolutely hate turtleducks.” He cracked one eye open. “That was too easy, wasn’t it?”

Katara’s heart sunk. Was that the only reason he’d picked her? To patch things up if something went wrong? But he’d asked her if she wanted to put Azula in her place, hadn’t he? _Yes_ , sneered a cruel voice, _but then he decided to fight her on his own, didn’t he?_

“Katara?”

Katara nodded, forcing a smile onto her face. “I always pegged you as a turtleduck hater.”

Zuko grinned and closed his eyes again. “Your turn.”

“Um. Okay. The time I froze you to a wall at the North Pole was the first time I’d tried that trick, and I love jasmine tea.”

Zuko frowned. “I know you love jasmine tea. Who else were you freezing to walls?”

“Jet. But it was a tree, not a wall.”

“Huh.” Zuko chewed his lip thoughtfully. “Was Jet your boyfriend?”

Katara spluttered and the handful of water she’d been bending splashed back into the tub.

“Excuse me?!”

His eyes were open now, and he blinked calmly up at her. “I think you heard me.”

“And I think you’ve forgotten that you’re in a large pool of water with a waterbending master.” Katara muttered, then sighed. “No. Jet wasn’t my boyfriend. We knew him for all of two or three days. I just… I just liked him, okay? And then he did something horrible, and it made me feel stupid for liking him.”

Katara’s hands were beginning to shake. Zuko reached up and grabbed her wrist.

“I’m sorry,” he said gently. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I’m not upset,” Katara said honestly. “I just felt stupid. I still feel stupid.”

“You shouldn’t.”

Silence lapped between them as Katara focused on the outer edges of his wound. “Your turn.” Katara said with a touch of venom. She was still smarting from his revelation about her healing, and mention of Jet hadn’t done much to improve her mood. “Maybe you can tell me about _your_ girlfriend.”

Zuko’s expression changed from rueful to mortified. “I, ah, I don’t…” he stammered. “I mean, I don’t even know if I have a girlfriend anymore.”

Katara frowned. “How can you not know? I’d have thought it was pretty obvious. Aren’t you dating the gloomy knife girl?”

“Mai. I was dating her before I left, but then I treated her pretty terribly. And then I treated her really terribly. So I guess… I guess if she forgives me – “

“Forgives you for what?” Katara asked flatly. “For joining us? For helping the Avatar bring peace to the world? For freeing innocent people from prison?”

“Well, no. Not when you put it like that, but – “

“But what?”

Katara listened carefully as he recounted everything that had happened in the days before the eclipse and all that had occurred at the Boiling Rock. As he spoke, a feeling of outrage and anger began to swell in her chest, tempered only slightly by news of Mai’s role in helping them escape the Boiling Rock. 

There was an expectant silence when Zuko finished speaking. “Well,” he said miserably, “what do you think?”

“I think that there’s nothing to forgive.”

Zuko gaped at her. “But… but I behaved terribly!”

Katara shrugged. “Sure, maybe the letter wasn’t the most romantic gesture in the world, but I’m sure it probably beats being tried for treason by your dad. Which is why you wrote it, right?”

“But at the prison –” 

“Don’t get me wrong,” Katara cut across him sharply. “I’m glad Mai did the right thing. But considering it was letting you go or letting you all die horribly… yeah. I’m glad she did the right thing.”

Zuko threw her an agonised glance and she immediately regretted the harshness of her words.

“I’m sorry,” she said sincerely. “But I really don’t think you have anything to apologise for. Zuko, you helped save the world! If Mai really loves you, she’ll see that. She’ll know that there’s nothing to forgive.”

A ghost of a smile crossed Zuko’s face. “Do you think so?”

“Yes. I do,” she said firmly. “Besides, she’d be crazy not to want you back. You must be the most eligible guy in the world right now!”

Zuko flushed deeply at her words. “I doubt it. The whole crazy, tyrannical family thing isn’t exactly every girl’s dream. Anyway, there’s _this_ ,” he said, gesturing to the scar across his face.

“Are you serious?” Katara snorted in disbelief. 

“About the huge scar that covers half my face? Yes, I’m serious.”

“Well clearly Mai didn’t seem to care, and I’d bet you fifty custard tarts that she wouldn’t be the only one.” Katara sighed at Zuko’s incredulous expression. “Trust me Zuko, your scar doesn’t make you any less attractive.” 

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Katara wanted to reel them back in. _Did you just tell Zuko that you think he’s attractive_? She wondered if it was possible for a waterbending master to drown herself in a bath.

“Um, thanks Katara.”

She nodded, blushing furiously. 

“Are we done yet?”

Katara stepped back. “Yep, all done!” she said, a little too enthusiastically. “You can get out now.”

Zuko stood up slowly, his hand tenderly probing his torso. “Thanks. That feels a lot better.”

Katara had already climbed out of the tub and was gathering up her clothes. She nodded over her shoulder at him as she hurried back into the bedroom and let the heavy wooden door shut behind her.

***

Katara dressed hurriedly and busied herself about the bedchamber. She drew back the heavy curtains that lined one side of the room, allowing bright, hot sunlight to flood in. She smoothed the sheets and plumped the pillows, and checked the large vats of healing water that were still at Zuko’s bedside. She dusted the bedside tables, and neatly arranged the trinkets and baubles that were carelessly strewn there.

She assiduously avoided looking at the washroom door, and absolutely avoided thinking about the conversation that had just taken place in there. 

Once she’d exhausted every nook and cleaned every cranny, Katara vigorously attacked her hair with a golden comb she’d found underneath the bed. She’d begun work on a particularly nasty knot when, out of nowhere, a wall tapestry spoke to her. 

“Can you give me a hand?”

Katara yelped and jumped backwards. The tapestry swung aside and a puzzled-looking Zuko peered out from behind it.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes! Yes, I’m fine! You just startled me. I didn’t know that was… is that another _room_

“It’s a dressing room.” 

“Oh. Right.” 

“Uh, so. Can you help me?” 

“Oh, right! Yes, sure.” 

Zuko held open the tapestry – which Katara now noted was actually a heavily embroidered curtain – and stood aside to allow her through. 

The dressing room was larger than her family’s entire tent in the South Pole. Rows upon rows of armour and robes, tunics and trousers, and boots and slippers lined the walls. Huge, gilded mirrors ran from the ceiling to the floor, and a plush, velvety ottoman dominated the centre of the room. Katara gaped as she stared around. _How many outfits does one prince need?_

“Katara, a little help? Please?” 

Katara glanced over at Zuko. He was attempting to rewrap his bandages and was, from the looks of things, failing miserably. Guilt wrung at her insides. _Some friend_ – some healing waterbender – _you are_. 

“Wait there, I’ll get you some fresh bandages.” 

Katara hurried back into the bedchamber, chiding herself for allowing a moment of embarrassment to cause her to abandon her friend. She noticed that she was still holding tight to the golden comb she’d been using when Zuko startled her, and carelessly tossed it aside as she gathered up an armful of bandages and salves. 

“Okay,” she said briskly as she pushed aside the dressing room curtain. “Let’s get you ready for your first day as Fire Lord.” 

The room fell silent as Katara worked, carefully applying a series of salves and lotions to Zuko’s wound and wrapping lengths of gauzy fabric around his torso. She looked up him. He was standing quietly, staring thoughtfully into space. 

“Are you okay?” 

He blinked, hesitated, and smiled down at her. “I’m fine.” 

Katara tied off his bandages and stood up. She surveyed her work with pursed lips, nodded with satisfaction, and looked frankly at him. 

“No, you’re not.” 

He stared at her. 

“Zuko, if you’re…” she paused, chewed her lip, and chose her next words carefully. “If you’re feeling nervous or uncertain about today, that’s completely normal. Yesterday, we woke up not knowing if we would live or die. Today, you woke up as Fire Lord and I apparently woke up as Princess of the Southern Water Tribe.” Zuko smiled and Katara stepped forward, laying a hand on his arm. 

“I meant what I said to Azula yesterday,” she added softly. “I think you’re going to be the best leader this nation has seen in a very long time.” 

“But how can you know that?” Zuko asked. He was looking at her pleadingly, and Katara felt something twist tight around her heart. 

“Because I know you. And I know how fiercely you fight for the things you want, and I know that the things you want are good. I know _you_ are good, Zuko.” 

With those words, Zuko’s eyes blazed, and Katara was suddenly very aware of how close they were standing and the heat of his arm beneath her hand. She took a step backwards and turned to fuss over rolls of bandages and pots of salve, letting her hair hang in a curtain around her face. 

“Katara?” 

“Mmm?” 

“I’m sorry about the Jet thing.” 

“Huh?” 

“Asking you if Jet was your boyfriend. I didn’t mean to upset you.” 

Katara looked up at him, and was slightly gratified to see a flush spreading across his cheekbones. She contemplated teasing him further, just to see how many apologies she could wring out of him in the course of a single morning, but relented as she saw him shift with embarrassment and discomfort. She sighed and set aside the bandage she had been rolling. 

“That’s not why I was upset.” 

Zuko’s face creased with confusion. “Then what… why did you leave so suddenly?” 

Katara sunk down onto the ottoman and cupped her chin in her hands. 

“Was my healing the only reason you asked me to come here?” she asked heavily. 

After a heartbeat, the confusion on Zuko’s face gave way to comprehension and he knelt beside her. 

“Katara, I asked you to come here because in all the time I’ve known you – even when we weren’t... friends – you’ve been the only person who has been able to hold her own against Azula.” 

She looked up at him, hating herself for how much her heart leapt at his words. “Really?” 

“Really. And besides,” his mouth quirked up in an amused half-grin, “I think you might be the only waterbender in history to win an Agni Kai.” 

Katara held his gaze for a moment. It was warm and sincere and any lingering doubt and fury slipped away under its power. His hands were on her shoulders, heavy and reassuring, and before she knew it, she had thrown herself into his arms. He gave a start of surprise, but then pulled her close to his chest. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be.” 

Katara wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, entwined and breathing in the scent of hair and skin and warmth, but when she eventually broke away the taste of tears was in her mouth. 

“We should really get you dressed,” she said, brushing a hand across her eyes. 

Zuko smiled and stood. “Well, Princess. What do you think a formerly banished prince should wear on his first day as Fire Lord?” 

Katara crossed the room and ran her hand over the rows of silky, dusky fabrics that hung there. 

“I’m not sure,” she said as she walked down the length of the room, letting her fingers trail over his garments. “Nothing too heavy, I am not healing you again because you had to wear a fancy robe. And definitely not something like _this_ ,” she said disdainfully, poking at a spiky set of shoulder pads. 

She turned around expectantly and saw, with some surprise, that Zuko was smiling fondly at her. 

“I’m glad you’re here, Katara.” 

She blinked, then smiled back at him. 

“I am too.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for getting this far with me! 
> 
> Stay tuned for what a day of "Fire Lord stuff" holds in Chapter 3. I love all of your kudos and comments - in a big, goofy grin kind of way. Please, please keep them coming!


	3. The Second Day - Part 2

#### The Day After Sozin’s Comet

For what seemed like the millionth time that morning, Katara’s nerves were roiling.

Once Zuko had dressed himself to both his and Katara’s satisfaction – he had wanted to look regal and refined, she had wanted him to make it through the day without passing out – he had taken her by the shoulders and steered her towards an uncomfortable-looking armchair in the corner of his bedchamber. 

“Katara,” he said seriously once she was seated. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Oh?” she teased. “Should I be worried?”

He frowned at her, “Well, yes.”

Any lightness she had been aiming for evaporated immediately. 

“I’m…” he exhaled heavily. “I’m not entirely sure how today will go.”

Katara felt her stomach drop. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” his forehead furrowed and he began to pace back and forth in front of her. “I mean that I don’t know who I can trust here. The ministers, the council, the nobles… many of them were loyal to my father. Are _still_ loyal to my father. They won’t exactly be happy about me usurping his throne. That is if they even let me make it to the throne in the first place,” he added darkly.

“But there must be some people here who we can trust! Are there any ministers or nobles who, I don’t know, have a heart?”

He halted his pacing to throw her a wry glance. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “That’s the problem. Any of the newer noble families – the ones that rose to riches under my father and grandfather – probably can’t be trusted. They owe my family too much. The older families… ugh! I don’t know! I wish Uncle was here!” 

He threw up his hands in frustration and began pacing again. Katara chewed her lip thoughtfully.

“Well,” she began slowly. “What about some of the men who served with you on your ship? They might not be ministers or nobles, but they should still be loyal to you, right?”

Zuko spun around, eyes shining. “Katara, that's brilliant! My men were in the Fire Navy, they won’t have been part of the invasion! If I can get a messengerhawk to Lieutenant Jee, I can have him and his men here within the week!”

The flicker of hope that Katara had felt dimmed. “A week?”

Zuko took in her sombre expression and his own face fell slightly. “Well, it’s better than nothing.”

“I suppose,” Katara said gloomily. “But if we want to leave this room without constantly checking over our shoulders then we need someone who we can trust now.”

Zuko surveyed her, his expression unreadable. Katara grew uncomfortable under his gaze. “What?” she said eventually, a little more irritably than she intended. 

“You keep saying ‘we’. Like all of this is your problem too.” He paused. “It doesn’t have to be, you know.”

“What do you mean?” Katara said, raising her eyebrows and trying to dampen the flicker of fury she felt at his words. “You think I’m going to jump on Appa and run off now?”

“I’m just saying that you could.”

Katara narrowed her eyes at him. “Don’t be ridiculous. For one thing, your lightning injury is nowhere near healed enough. It took me weeks to heal Aang properly and I was using Spirit Oasis water. And he was dead," she added as an afterthought. 

Zuko's lips quirked in what might have been a half-smile.

“Besides,” she added loftily, “if you really are in danger then you’re going to need a bodyguard. Preferably one who is a master of her element.”

Zuko raised an eyebrow at her. “Is that so?”

“Yes! It is so!”

A smile quirked at the corners of his mouth. “Fine. Then let’s go.”

“Go where?”

“To see the only person we know can’t be trusted.” His smile turned grim. “I… we need to see Azula.”

***

“So, uh, where exactly are we going?”

Zuko’s footsteps echoed firm and fast through the cloistered hallways as he strode purposefully along. Katara had to quicken her pace to keep up with him. 

“Hey! Slow down! Don’t forget, the last time we were in this hallway I was carrying you!”

Zuko shot her an unamused look but slowed his pace slightly. 

“Where are we going?” Katara repeated. 

“The Prison Tower. It’s not far.”

“Will they let us in?”

“They’ll have to,” Zuko said shortly. “I know most of the guards. I don’t think there’ll be any fuss.”

“You were a regular at the local prisons, huh?”

“I used visit a lot.” He cast a sidelong glance at Katara. “When my uncle was imprisoned there.”

Katara wished she could have bitten off her own tongue. She remembered the cool feel of the grass beneath her hands as she had knelt beside Zuko outside his uncle’s tent. “Oh. I’m sorry Zuko.”

“Well, he managed to break out on the day of the eclipse.” A small smile crossed Zuko’s face. “I think he’d been secretly practicing his hot squats.”

Katara smiled. “Well, let’s hope the guards don’t think you’re here to break another relative free. Although I have to say that Captain Shinsuke was very helpful yesterday and –”

Katara stopped dead in her tracks, a look of horror spreading across her face. 

“Zuko,” she said in strangled voice. 

Zuko had gone striding ahead, not noticing her sudden halt. He turned back to look at her. “What?”

Katara stared at him wide-eyed. “I can’t… I can’t believe I was so stupid!”

Zuko looked taken aback. “What do you mean?”

“Yesterday,” Katara choked out the words. “I… I trusted everyone! I didn’t even stop to think! Captain Shinsuke, Ukari… how could I have been so stupid?”

A look of comprehension dawned over Zuko’s face and he took a step towards her. “Katara, it’s okay.”

Katara shook her head stubbornly. “I can’t believe I left you alone! What if something had happened to you?”

Zuko took another step towards her. “Katara. It really is okay. I’m not worried about the servants or the Imperial Guard.”

Katara blinked at him. “You’re not?”

“No,” he stepped forward, closing the remaining gap between them. He stood tall above her, the sun glinting off the flame-shaped crown secured to his topknot. “The Imperial Guard is loyal to only one person - the Fire Lord. I – we – defeated Azula in an Agni Kai for the Crown. As soon as she went down, the Guard became loyal to me. And maybe you too.”

Katara ignored the teasing tone of his last remark. “But what about the servants? Any one of them could have hurt you yesterday.”

“Well, I think most of the servants were probably just glad that Azula wasn’t around to throw them in prison or singe off their hair.” Zuko said amusedly. “But besides that, you probably found the most loyal servant in the entire palace yesterday when you went for help.”

“What do you mean? Who?”

“Ukari. She was one of my mother’s servants,” Zuko said simply. 

“Oh. I see. But still,” Katara shuddered. “It could have gone so wrong!”

“Maybe,” Zuko shrugged. “But it didn’t, and you did what you had to do to keep us both alive. If you’d stayed at my bedside Azula would have been chained to a sewerage grate all night. That wouldn’t have been…” he paused, searching. “It wouldn’t have been right.”

Katara nodded slowly and Zuko held out an arm to her.

“Shall we go see my sister, Princess?”

Katara nestled her hand into the crook of Zuko’s arm and walked beside him, through the Palace gates and into the morning.

***

“Zuzu! How delightful. You’ll have to excuse the mess - the Royal Throne Room this is not.”

Azula smiled beatifically at Katara and Zuko from where she sat cross-legged in the middle of her sparse cell. The former Crown Princess was clearly still in the same cold, lucid state that Katara had left her in the previous evening. Katara thought she would have preferred the screaming. 

“Hello Azula.” Zuko said flatly. 

“Really brother,” Azula tutted. “Is that any way to greet your Fire Lord?”

Zuko grimaced, but ignored her barb. “I’ve come to let you know that the invasion has failed. The Earth Kingdom still stands, and the Avatar has defeated Ozai.”

Katara looked at Zuko out of the corner of her eye. Sure enough, there had been no glowing reports of a Fire Nation victory in the Earth Kingdom, but they were still yet to receive a reply from Katara’s messengerhawks, and the last time they had seen Aang was that terrible day on Ember Island. 

There was no way to tell if what Zuko was saying was true, but he had looked his sister in the eye and spoken without the slightest trace of doubt. Katara felt her heart lift, and she had to stop herself from beaming at Zuko. 

Azula was shrugging at Zuko’s words. “A minor set back. It matters little to me if Father’s campaign has failed. We will live to fight - and win - another day.”

Zuko looked at his sister for a long time. With a jolt, Katara recognised pity in his glance.

“It’s over, Azula.” he said eventually. “I am only here as a courtesy, and to let you know that you’ll be held here until your trial.”

“Trial?” Azula pealed with laughter. “Well aren’t you just something? Not going to lock me up and throw away the key?”

Zuko flexed the fingers of his right hand. “No. I am not our father.”

Azula looked at him with her head tilted to the side. “No.” she said. “You’re not.”

Zuko took a step towards the bars of his sister’s cell. “I need one more thing from you, Azula.”

“You always need something from me, brother. What is it this time?”

“Names. The names of Ozai’s inner circle.”

Azula looked at her brother, golden eyes agleam. “But surely you already know, Zuzu.”

Zuko said nothing, holding Azula’s gaze steady. Eventually the princess sighed. 

“Fine. But none of these names should come as a surprise to you, dumdum. You never pay attention.”

Azula proceeded to rattle off a list of names that meant absolutely nothing whatsoever to Katara. She watched, half fascinated, half horrified, as Azula calmly named the nobles and ministers most loyal to her father. This cool, calculated version of Azula was so different to the rash, raving Azula she’d seen yesterday it was like they were two completely different people. It made her heart wring for Zuko, who stood motionless as he listened to his sister. 

As much as her brother irked her at times, she could always rely on him to be well, Sokka. Her big brother. Her long time protector. One of her best friends. 

As she looked between the two fire siblings, she saw two strangers. And it made her incredibly, inexplicably sad. 

Zuko was nodding as Azula finished her list.

“I will consider your cooperation in this matter at the time of your trial.” He said, inclining his head stiffly as he turned to leave. “Goodbye Azula.”

“Oh. Wait, I forgot one.” Azula’s voice was silky. Poisonous, Katara thought. 

Zuko stopped but didn’t turn back to face his sister. 

“Ukano.”

Azula delivered the name like a blow and Katara saw it land. Zuko’s shoulders stiffened, and a red flush rose up his neck. Katara held her breath. The very air between the two siblings seemed to crackle. 

Finally, Zuko straightened himself and walked back into the corridor without a backward glance. His footsteps echoed off the stone walls. 

After a moment Katara followed him, pausing only to look back at Azula. She still sat tall and stiff in the middle of her cell, the perfect product of years of royal training. Golden eyes, uncannily like her brother’s, were locked onto Katara. As their eyes met, Azula gave a small, inscrutable smile.

“The former Crown Princess Azula will be sent to trial as soon as the courts are open.” Zuko was speaking to the prison warden when Katara caught up to him. His voice was tight and matter-of-fact. “She will be held here until that time.”

The warden bowed reverently. “Yes, my Lord.”

Zuko nodded curtly and spun on his heel towards the exit. 

“My Lord?”

Zuko paused. 

“Will you be visiting… visiting the prisoner in the future?”

Katara watched the rigid lines of Zuko’s back and shoulders. 

“No.” he said. “No, I won’t.”

***

After they left the Prison Tower, Zuko stalked silently back through the Palace gates before striding deep into the Palace itself. His mouth was set in a hard, grim line, and Katara wasn’t entirely sure whether he knew she was still there at his side.

Eventually, his long, determined strides led her to a garden in the heart of the Palace. Surrounded by long, low buildings, the garden seemed to materialise out of nowhere, and it stopped Katara in her tracks. 

Gently sloping, manicured lawns rolled across an area the size of her entire South Pole village. Long-limbed trees swung gently in the faint warmth of the summer breeze, and - surprise of all surprises - a large pond shimmered beneath the early morning sun. 

It was several heartbeats before Katara realised that Zuko now sat cross-legged at the edge of the pond. Taking a deep breath, she crossed the lawn slowly and folded herself to the ground, keeping an arms-length distance between them.

Silence stretched, low and languid, between them. Though it was still early, the air was heavy and the warmth pressed itself against her skin with an insistence that spoke of the heat the day had yet to bring. 

The silence spread, and she said nothing.

Katara closed her eyes, enjoying the fleeting tendrils of cool air that danced across the surface of the pond. Gently, they lifted her hair from her temples, her cheekbones, her neck. 

Still, she said nothing. 

The sun continued to climb and the shadows in the garden shortened. The heat began to blaze fiercely, insistently. 

Finally, Zuko spoke.

“You must be pretty tired of having to chase after people, huh?”

Katara raised an eyebrow. “I thought the whole ‘chasing people’ bit was your thing.”

“You know what I mean.”

“No.” Katara inclined her head. “Not really.”

“Weren’t you always chasing Aang down whenever he had a crisis of conscience? Or a qualm about saving the world? Or when he stubbed his toe?”

“You’re angry,” Katara observed coolly. 

“I’m furious!” Zuko spat. Katara could have sworn the air around them rose by a few degrees. “How does she always manage to do that to me?!”

“Do what?”

“Make me look stupid!” Zuko stood abruptly, his hands clenched at his sides. He began to pace restlessly.

“You didn’t look stupid.” Katara said flatly. “You looked like a Fire Lord trying to determine who he could trust. Who he could rely on.” She paused for a heartbeat. “It looked pretty impressive to me.”

Zuko stopped his pacing and stared at her, a frown creasing his brow. 

“Were you…” Katara hesitated. “Were you surprised by any of those names?”

Zuko shook his head slowly. “No. No, not all of them.”

Katara bit her lip. “I don’t want to overstep, but I thought… well, I saw how you reacted to that last name. Ukano?”

Zuko exhaled sharply.

“Who is he?”

“He’s Mai’s father.”

“Oh. I see.”

Now the silence that stretched between them was frayed. 

While the air seemed to crack with the tension that they both felt, Katara thought she finally understood that the boy standing before her - the boy that had been her enemy, her friend, her saviour – was not a boy, but a prince, a lord, the ruler of his nation. 

She also began to realise that these two sides of Zuko - the boy and the lord - would not sit comfortably together for much longer. 

“Well,” she said eventually, edging closer to where he stood, holding himself stiff. “If we’ve learnt one thing in the last few weeks, it’s that the actions of fathers don’t really have much to do with their children.”

Zuko stared down at her for a moment, and a reluctant smile broke across his face. “You say that just after we’ve visited my sister in prison? After she tried her very best to kill you?” 

Katara shrugged and patted the grass next to her. Zuko hesitated, then folded himself down at her side. 

“She didn’t stand a chance against me, you know.”

Zuko quirked an eyebrow at her. “I know. Why else would I have asked you to come with me?”

Katara smiled at him and leant back on her elbows, closing her eyes. The breeze danced across her face again. “Want to know a secret?” she asked.

“Uh, sure.” Zuko answered warily.

“I used to be afraid of you.”

Zuko eyed her sceptically. “You? Afraid of me? At the risk of sounding condescending, you’ll forgive me if I don’t believe a word you say.”

Katara’s smile grew, and she opened her eyes to look at him. “I was afraid of you. You were the first fire bender I’d seen in… well, a long time. If Aang hadn’t come along, you would have been the first bender I’d seen in years. And you were so confident. So assured. It felt like the waters would part before your feet if you asked them to.”

Katara turned to face him fully. His eyes were wide and fixed firmly on her. 

“So, I was afraid of you. I’d never met anyone like you. I still haven’t, if I’m being honest.”

Zuko hesitated. “When did you stop being afraid of me?”

“When I got to know you.”

He threw her a wry glance. “Thanks a lot.”

“I mean that in a good way,” Katara said laughingly. “I stopped being afraid of you because I was… well, I guess I was in awe of you, really.”

Zuko flushed. “In awe of my ability to never actually succeed in my one mission in life, you mean? In awe of the way I always messed things up for myself and everyone around me?”

“In awe of the way you never stopped trying, actually.”

Zuko blinked at her. 

“I’d never seen someone work so hard for something. Wherever we turned, wherever we went, you were there. Don’t get me wrong,” Katara held her hands up. “It was incredibly annoying. But definitely awe-inspiring.”

Zuko was silent. 

“You’re trying to make me feel better.” 

“Me?” Katara said archly. “Never.”

He was quiet for a moment. “I don’t know if I can do this, Katara.” 

“Well then,” Katara stood and held out her hand. “It’s lucky that I do, in fact, know that you can do this.”

Zuko looked up at her with such an expression of hope that she felt her heart crack.

“Although,” she added bossily, “I can’t speak much for the longevity of your reign if you don’t let me take you back to bed right now.”

Zuko stood abruptly, ignoring her hand. “We should get back.” Colour rose sharply in his cheeks. “Uncle Iroh might have sent a reply to your messengerhawk by now.”

Katara narrowed her eyes at him. “Okay. One quick stop at the eyrie, but then we are going back to your room. No questions asked.”

“And here I was thinking that I was meant to be the awe-inspiring Fire Lord around here,” Zuko muttered to himself as he turned and stalked across the lawn.

Katara smiled and followed him back into the Palace.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> I have been a fan of this couple since The Pirates episode aired (yep, I am that old!). Their tension is palpable, their passions fierce, and the canon did not do them justice. This fic plays into how I, and many other fans, see the characters and their relationship developing after the series ostensibly ends. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed reading this, I would dearly love to hear your thoughts!


End file.
